Thief
by Fishoutofwater2.0
Summary: "Racoon's always had it out for me." Really? Always? Surly squirrel's past and childhood, a short peek into what it might have been like.


So, always wondered about Surly's insistance that Racoon always had it out for him. This is a short exploration on that. Just a one-shot.

"Thief!" The accusation hurt more then it should have, being that it was true. The truth of the matter was, he had stolen. He was guilty. All the same, it was an ugly thing to be called.

Surly backed up until there was no where else to go, glaring defiantly at those gathered about him, back pressed to  
the thick tree trunk that was the oak at the centre of the park. The young squirrel did not know how he was to weasel his way out of this particular predicament. He'd never been caught before, although the other animals had always suspected him.

It had only been a few nuts. It couldn't be that bad. They were just overreacting. The food was there to be eaten,  
wasn't it?

The animals suddenly split down the middle, making way for a taller, larger animal.

Surly had never liked the old raccoon. It had always bothered him that the animal didn't have a proper name like the  
others. Just Raccoon. Of course, the same could be said for Mole, who's parents, Surly assumed, had been too lazy to give him any other name. But that did not account for Raccoon. He was the only one of his species in the park, and no one seemed to  
know when the leader had first come to the park. It was a mystery. A rather shady one at that.

"So, you've finally been caught." He didn't not phrase it as a question, as if it had been inevitable from the very  
beginning. "What is to be done?" Raccoon shook his head, almost sadly.

Surly wasn't fooled. The raccoon, more then anyone else, would have loved to be rid of him.

"I say we put him to trial!" One mouse suggested.

The idea was met with much enthusiasm. Many of the parks residents were eager to cast out the pest before them, and  
they were not shy about saying so. The word banishment was tossed out, too carelessly for the situation.

Raccoon glared down at the quivering youth, still pressed up against the oak's trunk. "Justice," he began. "Will be-"

"Wait!" A full grown female squirrel with grey fur shot forward, putting herself between the angry gathering of animals,  
and the child that had been found guilty. It was Emery.

Surly wilted in relief. Emery wouldn't let them throw him out. Emery would protect him. She'd promised.

"Raccoon, please." Emery pleaded. "He's just a child. We don't put children on trial!" She appealed to the crowd gathered  
behind the old raccoon. Finding guilty faces, she turned and looked down at her charge.

Surly had plastered himself to her like a leaf to a window in a rainstorm.

She might have chuckled at the behaviour were it not for the seriousness of the situation. Surly was not a clingy  
child. He very much liked his personal space and was often off by himself. Now he was shaking and hiding himself from the angry animals. Either he was truly upset, or he was putting on a very good act for their benefit. Emery knew it could be either  
or. When it came to Surly, there was really no knowing. Not for sure.

"Step aside, Emery." Raccoon commanded. "He is not your problem."

"He's my responsibility!" Emery insisted stubbornly, not moving. "We don't put children on trial."

"Come on, Emery!" Someone else called out. "Why are you bothering? He's a bad influence on your own little one!"

Surly snatched her wrist, holding onto it with one shaky paw.

Emery looked down at him again. She didn't look upset, as all the others did. She didn't look at him like he was a  
problem, or a disappointment. She was upset, yes. He'd stolen from the community. It was wrong. But she was determined that the little squirrel not be put on trial like a common criminal. She stood her ground. "I'm not backing down!" She shouted.

Most of the animals were taken aback. Such aggression would certainly be warranted if her own child were being threatened.  
But Surly was not hers. However, from the dangerous glint in the mother squirrels eyes, it was evident she would not yield to the crowd.

Slowly, almost ashamedly, animals began to leave the group, going off their separate ways until there was only Raccoon.

He narrowed his eyes at the two squirrels, and leaned down so his eyes were level with Emery's. "I do hope you know  
what you are doing." Then he straightened and walked off.

Only once he'd gone did Emery kneel so she was facing the young squirrel. "Surly," she said, eyes narrowed reprovingly.  
"Did you steal something?" She knew the answer already, but she wanted to hear it from him.

Surly averted his eyes, not wanting to look his elder in the eyes. He nodded. "But they took it back." He mumbled.

Emery straightened up, taking him by the hand and pulling him along after her. "We don't steal from each other. You  
know that." She scolded as they walked. "Now is certainly not the time for disputes."

It was nearing the end of fall, and all the food that had been gathered in the great oak tree would be needed if everyone  
was to survive the winter.

"Why did you do it?" She asked.

Surly didn't respond. He couldn't tell her the truth, could he? What might she do if she knew that he'd done it, just  
to see if he could? Surly had stolen things before, right from under other animals noses too. But the great oak had seemed like such a tantalizing challenge. He'd been sure he could pull it off. The heist, of course, had failed miserably, ending in  
him almost being kicked out of the park. That would have been disastrous. He wouldn't be trying that again, at least until he could come up with a more fool proof plan.

Emery sighed, realizing she was not going to get a response from the little fellow.

The tree hollow Emery had chosen was quite near the oak, and she pushed Surly up in front of her so she could catch  
him if he fell.

When Surly managed to haul himself into the hollow Emery had brought him to when he'd first come to live with her,  
something heavy, furry, and excited slammed into him, almost causing him to topple backwards out of the tree.

Emery had to catch him and push him back inside.

"Surly!" Emery's son shouted, arms wrapped firmly about Surly's waist. He lifted him full off the ground. "Where have  
you been?! You were supposed to play with me and the Bruisers!"

"Greyson! Put me down!" Surly shouted, trying to break free. Though, technically, Greyson was younger then Surly,  
he was bigger and stronger, growing at an alarming rate. Finally freeing himself from the clutches of the other squirrel, Surly went to sulk in the corner.

Confused, Greyson went to his mother, wanting to know what was wrong with his playmate.

Emery smiled down at her child, taking his paw in her own, she led him further from Surly, who had curled up against  
the trunk. "Just let him be for a little while." She told her son. "He'll be better tomorrow."


End file.
